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The Silvermanes
The Silvermanes are a family line that hails from Juthron. Once renowned for their military prowess and service to the continent, they've recently fallen on hard times and their name no longer carries the weight it once did. Known members: * Torin Silvermane, Brother of The White Lion (Founder) * Rolf Silvermane, Son of The White Lion * Lori Silvermane, Daughter of The White Lion Legend of The White Lion This story can be found at the front of the book chronicling the Silvermane family history. It is often told as a bedtime story for young Silvermanes and everyone in the family can recite it by heart. Its accuracy and validity, however, remains a contested topic within the bloodline. Long ago, there rose a great military mind in the lands of Juthron known as Torin. He came from modest backgrounds, but his skill and influence on the battlefield carried across the continent. He had a loyal following and waged many successful campaigns in his time. Yet as great a warrior as Torin was, he could not escape his darkest hour. A band of gnolls, greater than any warband seen before, had been sweeping across the continent. As the high king rallied all able men to arms, Torin and his troops responded in kind. His forces tore through the ranks of the gnolls, but in doing so the men grew overconfident and forgot not to underestimate their opponent. One fateful night when the men were camped in the mountains, as they sang drunken songs and ate merrily, the foul stench of gnolls encircled them. When the first man went to his side in slumber, the relentless beasts sprung their attack. Caught out as they were, the soldiers fell like wheat before a thresher. Torin, though wounded, managed to escape the battle, for he knew better than to throw his life away in a lost fight. Staggering through the dark hills, he found himself wandering into a cave. He knew that without aid he would surely soon perish, and so he prepared to meet his maker. A deep growl rumbled off the walls of the cave as he lay slumped against a wall. He reached for his sword, yet knew that it would do him no good in his wounded state. As the earthly sound grew closer, he braced himself for whatever beast would sink its teeth into his throat. As dark as the cave was, however, the form seemed to glow as it came before him. A lion, as white as the snow that covered Juthron, with a mane that glittered the purest silver, stood before him. As he gazed upon the beautiful being, such a thing unheard of across the entire land, he forgot the danger he was surely in. Yet, as the lion grew closer, it did not bare its teeth to rip out Torin’s throat. Instead, it seemed to watch him, as if taking its measure of the man. Then, as soon as it’d appeared, it left, bounding out of the cave on the lightest of paws. Our hero claimed to have lost consciousness at this point, perhaps believing the beast to be a dying dream. Yet, when he came to, the beast was before him again, standing over a pile of meats and fruits. Sure as Torin was that he was still dreaming, the lion pushed the food towards him, and so Torin ate. As Torin finished the meal that The White Lion had brought for him, another sound filled the cave. It was the ever familiar sound of gnolls, their vile barks carrying down through the echo. Torin reached for his sword once more, yet knew that he was still too weak to defend himself. It was only a matter of time before the feral warriors were standing before him, teeth bared and spears ready to swarm upon him. Yet the lion would not have these mongrels trespass in its cave, and bared its own teeth in kind. As foolish as they were, the gnolls moved to pounce upon The White Lion. In a streak of silver, the beast pounced first. Effortlessly, it raked and tore at the invaders, covering the walls of the cave in their blood as they swung wildly at it, yet failing to even land a glancing blow. Within moments, corpses littered the cave as the savaged survivors fled with their tails between their legs. And so it was that The White Lion had saved Torin, and he went to his hands and knees in eternal gratitude. In time, he was nursed back to health with the great animal’s help and the two left the cave for the capital of Juthron together. When they reached the outskirts of the city, The White Lion stopped. The time for them to part ways had come, and though Torin would forever miss his companion, he understood the need for them to go their separate ways. As a symbol of his eternal gratitude, he adopted the family name Silvermane and swore his children a blood oath to serve the great animal. This is the story of why the Silvermanes call themselves the Children of the White Lion, as they owe their lives to it in all its strength and valour.